Dylan grinned. “Am I your boyfriend?”

“Oh, please!” She laughed at him. “A kiss just to show off and a trip to McDonald’s and a promise to be gone in a couple of days? I can do way better than you.”

He sat up. “Wait a minute. I took you to breakfast and on a fantastic bike ride!”

“That’s on the cusp,” she said. “Close, but no cigar.”

“Jesus,” he said, running a hand over his head. “You’re tough! What’s a date to you, anyway? It’s not like there are fancy places to go dancing around here.”

She was shaking her head. “I can’t remember when I last danced anyway.”

“What is it you’re looking for? Want to cut me in on the secret?”

She shrugged. “I’ll know it when I see it.”

He stared at her for a moment. He liked that smile; he liked that she was an uppity, self-confident little witch. One corner of his mouth lifted, then he slid his hand around the back of her neck and deftly lowered her to the ground. He hovered over her and concentrated on those large eyes for a second before he leaned in to her plump, delicious mouth. He teased, a little kiss, a little nibble, a lick, waiting for her to let him know she was interested in more. And it didn’t take long, either. She slipped her hands around his neck and pulled his lips down to hers, lowering her lids and opening her mouth for him immediately.

She made a low sound in her throat and he groaned. Their tongues tangled together; he threaded his fingers into her wild hair. He was drowning in her and let his lips slip from hers to her neck with a whispered exclamation. “God, you taste good.” And he kissed her neck, her collarbone, her jaw, her ear, then went back to her mouth for more, licking her open and devouring her. He hadn’t planned this part, but it came to him that he needed her and he was glad it had. Of the hundred or so women he’d kissed, this one was somehow different. As he moved over her mouth, he thought of her as belonging to him. This kind of thought had never happened before; he’d always focused on “this is for now.”

He didn’t want to let her go.

And she didn’t want him to, that was obvious. As he fell onto his side, pulling her against him, she embraced him and stroked his back, his neck, his arms, holding him close. He kissed her for a minute, two minutes, three minutes. He broke from her mouth, but didn’t let her go. “Whoa,” he whispered. He went back for more.

It had to happen. He was aroused and wanted a lot more from her, but resisted the temptation. He did consider how sweet it could be, in the soft grass, under the warm sun… If being inside her mouth felt this good, he couldn’t imagine the thrill of getting inside her body.

She tilted her pelvis against him; now she knew. She didn’t seem to mind, either. He ran a hand down her spine to her little butt and fanned his fingers, pulling her more firmly against him, pressing into her. Yeah. Bliss. He could start with the buttons on her blouse and in less than ten minutes, which was a very unhurried projection, he could turn bliss into rapture.

He lifted his head. “Is this a date?”

She shook her head. “This is making out,” she whispered back. “Very good making out, I admit.”

“How much food do I have to buy you to qualify for a date?” he asked. And she only giggled and pulled his mouth back to hers.

After a few more minutes of awesome kissing, he relaxed the hand against her perfect ass and pulled reluctantly away from her mouth. “Let’s get undressed. A little undressed, at least. Enough undressed…”

“Enough undressed for what?” she asked him, aiming her lips toward his for more.

“I want you,” he said. “Really, really want you. I promise, I’ll make it worth your while…”

“Hmm. While that just sweeps me away, I’m not prepared.”

“I’m prepared. I have protection,” he said.

“No, Dylan—I’m not prepared to get that involved with you.”

“Why not?”

“Besides the fact that you’re leaving in two days?” she asked him.

“Okay. I’ll stay the rest of the week…”

She laughed lightly. “If it matters, it is very hard to say no to you. You have fantastic lips…and stuff.”

He groaned in misery. “Katie, I’m hard as a hammer here…”

“I know,” she said. “It’s very nice. I’m sure if I were ready, it would do the trick.”

He rolled onto his back, lacing his fingers behind his head. He closed his eyes and said nothing, but his lips were tight.

“Maybe we should just go,” she suggested.

“I can’t go yet,” he muttered, not opening his eyes.

“Because…?”

“Because I’m sporting a rod,” he said.

She shook her head and tsked. “Wow, you remind me more of Charlie all the time. But don’t misunderstand, that’s not why I like you.” She flopped down beside him, lying on her back. “We’ll wait till you’re ready.”

“I’d like it better if we could get you ready,” he grumbled.

“Remind me to hold back on the making out next time. I think it makes you a little cranky.”

“Seriously,” he admitted. “Give me a little time. I’ll be fine.”

So she lay quietly beside him.

It wasn’t hard to relax, even though she had as much frustration as he. But the day was so perfect—the sun was warm, the grass soft beneath her, the cooling breeze just right. It was a perfect time to think about a few things—like was she among the first to tell the once famous Dylan Childress no? The fact was, “yes” had been on her lips. Oh, she wanted him right back. She hadn’t wanted that much or been that ready in more than five years. But she’d been through a lot and didn’t feel like piling regret on top of it all. She didn’t feel like being the girl he could turn and walk away from without a thought.

It wasn’t as though Katie had unrealistic expectations. All that she’d been through had also taught her that. She could make love to a wonderful, thrilling man without a marriage proposal in the works. She could have a fling, of course she could. But really, the idea that he could take his pleasure and move on easily, without looking back, without longing, without wanting, without even missing her a little bit, that would be very hard to take. And she knew this guy—he was a playboy born and bred. He would go and he wouldn’t lose any sleep over her.

All she wanted was to matter. To be more than an opportunity. That’s all. She didn’t expect to be the love of his life or even one of the memorable ones. But she had to be more than a day on a hilltop in the sun…

“You about ready?” he asked.

She opened her eyes and saw that he was sitting up, looking down at her. “Are you?” she asked.

“Ready when you are.”

“Are you feeling all right?” she asked.

“Much better. I needed a little meditation, so to speak.” He leaned over and put a little kiss on her forehead. “We should go north now. There’s a lot to see.”

She sat up. “Are you going to be grumpy?”

“No, of course not. Look, I know you understand this… A guy needs a little time to relax the parts, as we say. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I won’t walk us into that trap again.”

“Of course not,” she said. But she didn’t quite believe him. He seemed more the type to try that again. Because he was leaving soon. And if she was right about him, he was in for a few surprises.

She jumped on the back of the cycle and rode behind him. They stopped in Ferndale for an outstanding burger in an old hotel restaurant, laughed about the difference between a meal out with the boys and alone, then rode another three hours before heading back to Virgin River. Katie had kids to pick up.

When they got to the cabins so she could pick up her SUV, he slipped an arm around her waist and treated her to a delicious kiss. Not a ten-minute kiss, but a very tempting one. And he said, “Thanks for going with me. It was a good day. See you around.”

“Um, listen… Before you leave the area… Would you…” She stopped and chewed on her lip for a second. “If you have time, you might swing by and say goodbye.”

“You bet,” he said. “But instead of saying goodbye, I think I’ll pick you up at your place day after tomorrow at about eleven, take you for a ride, maybe lunch. If you have nothing better to do.”

“I’m free,” she said.

“Good. See you then.” And he gave her a pop on the fanny.

Dylan took Katie out on the bike three times in a week, a couple of hours of riding, thirty minutes or so of kissing, a little something to eat. “Have I dated you yet?” he asked.

“You’re definitely getting closer.”

“I have to work tomorrow and the next day,” he said. “I have a couple of meetings—airport stuff. But I’ll be in touch.”

And then he seriously considered moving on. He’d been in Virgin River over two weeks. Four days later, four days away from Katie, after having spent considerable time visiting small airports all over Humboldt, Trinity and Mendocino Counties, Dylan found himself back on that memorable hilltop, looking out over the ocean. The hilltop where he’d seduced Katie, a memory so delicious he just couldn’t shake it. His bike was propped up and he leaned back, legs extended over the handlebars.

He had good cell reception so he called Lang. “What’s shakin’?” he asked.

“Same old, same old. Mostly just what we expected,” Lang said. “But there have been a couple of developments. We lost two crew members—one of the BBJ cabin crew and a pilot. Both moved on to more secure jobs, which is a gift. They probably saw the handwriting on the wall—it’s not a secret business is down. Frankly, I’m relieved we won’t have to let them go when we give up the BBJ. And we picked up a charter, but I had to bid it so low, it’s not a moneymaker.”

Dylan whistled. “What’s next?”

“I’m working on the paperwork to let go of the BBJ. The second I tell the leasing company we can’t make the payments, they’re going to be in here to pick her up. I just hope they don’t try to hold us to the full term of the lease, try to make us pay something for the months we’re defaulting on. If that happens, we might have to file for bankruptcy protection. And before you panic at the thought—it’s not the end of the world if that happens.”

“Can we hang tough through summer?” Dylan asked.

“I think so. Then we’ll have to downsize some more. If crew keeps moving out on their own, it might not be necessary to let them go.”

Terminate employees. They didn’t have that many, but it hit Dylan in the gut. He was a conscientious employer and every single one mattered to him. “I’ve talked to Jay, the producer. He has some ideas, but nothing concrete yet. He’s optimistic—I think something will come together.”

“And you’re still hanging out in Virgin River?” Lang asked.

“Same cabin at the Riordans’. I think I’ve dropped in on ten small airports in the area. This won’t surprise you—everyone is experiencing the same problems we are… At least I have an option. I hope.”

“Okay, listen. I can’t say what I’d do if someone wanted to give me a shitpot full of money just to stand in front of a camera and look pretty, but you don’t have to do it for us. You should only do it for you. Because we might have to make some painful adjustments around here, but we can keep coffee in the pot with a skeleton crew for a long time. A long time, Dylan. Just on our instrument instruction, aircraft storage and maintenance, occasional flight instruction and the odd charter…”